


Cully-Wully Cake

by awkward_ace



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Good natured teasing, Humor, Romance, Shirking Responsibilities, Teasing, stupid nicknames
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-07-12
Packaged: 2018-12-01 03:24:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11477613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkward_ace/pseuds/awkward_ace
Summary: Cullen is uncertain whether Sera is being nice, or setting a trap. With cake. Then the Inquisitor shows up and silly things ensue. He learns a little something about her, get some sweet snuggling and smooches, and gets a stupid nickname. Which will haunt him unto the grave. Oh yes.Inspired by an in-game comment that Cullen said to my lady mage Inquisitor. Silly Cullen. Don't give me ammo.





	Cully-Wully Cake

**Author's Note:**

> This came from the merest strands of stuff. My Inquisitor got back from a quest and, as usual, first thing to do is to go say "Hi, Honey!" to Cullen. When asked if there was anything she should know, he responds that "Sera brought me cake." and that he is unsure whether or not she is being nice...or if it's a trap.
> 
> Coupled with Sera's habit of "Cully-Wully" and...well. This.
> 
> I suppose the important thing is that I am amused, and thus, I give you this, in the hopes that in your next venture through Thedas with Cullen as your romance choice, you yourself get yourself some...er...cake.

**And now, Ladies and Gentlefolks, I give you cake**

 

Cullen wondered how long it was physically possible to stare at an object before the object spontaneously burst into flames. If such a thing were possible, at any rate. If it was, then he was certain he had a fairly good start on it, because he had been staring rather suspiciously at the same object for what must have been close to three quarters of an hour now.

That object…was a piece of cake.

Innocuous, innocent, ordinary cake. Or so it seemed.

Sera had waltzed in just before midday, throwing his door open unceremoniously—not even a knock!—and had set the plate down with a fork on his desk. “Right, then, Commander Cully-Wully, you looked hungry, so here you go. Cake! Everyone likes cake, so you have to like cake, yeah? Eat something that tastes good with that gross…whateve’ you call tea,” she had said, wrinkling her nose as the nearly black liquid in his mostly empty mug.

Then she’d walked out, closing the door with a thud behind her. Just like that. The whole thing had left him rather startled and more than a little confused.

And now he was suspicious.

The cake was still faintly warm, like it had been baked fresh just an hour or so ago, and was flecked with bits of raisins and currants. He could just make out the smell of cinnamon and molasses and…oranges? Maybe? Everything about the cake appealed to his senses.

But the bringer of the cake make him wary. Sera. Notorious prankster. Most recently by slipping a pebble under his desk leg and making the whole thing wobble if he leaned on it the wrong way. It had taken him _days_ to figure out what was off. It had made him _livid_.

And now, the girl had brought him…cake. Because he “looked hungry”.

How was he supposed to take that?

And “Commander Cully-Wully”? What in the Maker’s name was _that_?! If she was a soldier he’d have her cleaning latrines for weeks for insubordination.

Unfortunately, Sera was nestled firmly, comfortably, and _untouchably_ in the warm jurisdiction of the Inquisitor’s direct orders.

Pria _adored_ Sera. As much as Pria cared for him, he highly doubted he would be able to talk her into letting him have a say in what happened to Sera when she got up to her pranks and…nicknames.

So, here he was, continuously staring at the piece of cake while sitting in his chair, and wondering if he dared. It might be a trap. Or…Sera could have been completely serious. It was a dilemma.

There was a knock at the door before it opened, this time quietly, and Pria peeked in, smiling at him. He smiled back, instantly forgetting the cake and its questions. “Pria,” he said, voice warm and soft, “Please, come in.”

She slid in, shut the door quietly, and walked over to him, leaning down to kiss his temple softly as she settled on the arm of his chair, a slim arm going around his shoulders. “Hello,” she said. “I’m hiding here for a while. I’m not ready to start reading reports and looking at maps and other important things yet.”

He hummed quietly as he leaned into her and rested an arm on her lap, absently running his hand over her knee. “I’m more than happy to be your excuse for wasting time,” he murmured, his other hand finding hers and tangling their fingers together.

“Hardly a waste of time. What are you up to?”

“I am trying to decide if Sera is being uncharacteristically sweet, or if she’s setting a trap for me.”

“Oh?” Her thumb gently brushed his knuckle, tracing it. “How so?”

“She brought me cake. Burst in here with it saying I looked hungry. And called me…” he grimaced, “Never mind that.”

Except he caught the impish grin that was suddenly appearing on Pria’s face, and that particular smile ( _That damn smile._ ) always made him, or anybody else who knew her, pay sudden, close attention. “Was it ‘Commander Cully-Wully’?” she asked.

_Andraste’s tits!_

“Maker’s breath,” he groaned in exasperation, “How did you know?”

Pria started to laugh, leaning a bit more heavily on him as her balance shifted. Really laughing. This was, apparently, infinitely more funny to someone who was not…well, _him_.

“Pria,” he said.

Still laughing. Yes, this was much funnier to someone who was not him.

“ _Pria_ ,” he growled.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Cullen!” she gasped, eyes a bit wet, “I’m really not laughing at you, I promise!”

“Yes, you’re very convincing that you are not doing such a thing, despite sitting here doing precisely that.”

The elf, finally calming enough to restrain outright laughter, settled for instead grinning widely and rather foolishly, wiped her eyes, and slid into his lap, winding her arms around his neck. “Don’t be upset, Cullen,” she said, kissing him softly, “I truly wasn’t laughing at you.”

His arms went around her waist. “I don’t quite believe that, but alright.”

She kissed him again, harder this time, biting gently at his bottom lip and teasingly running her tongue over it. He shivered faintly as a thrill went down his spine, and he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her a little closer, fingers digging into her sides faintly.

She squeaked against his mouth, shuddered.

He pulled back, surprised, and found her staring at him, wide-eyed and clearly looking like she had just given away a secret. Which…she had. “Pria…” he said slowly, a devilish grin appearing on his face.

“No. No, don’t you dare, I swear to the Creators--!”

He did dare. He cricked his fingers, tickling. She shrieked and twisted on his lap, scrambling to get up all the while dissolving into laughter. “Cullen Rutherford--!!”

He ceased after a moment in favor of pulling her back against his chest, smiling widely and nuzzling her neck. “So, the legendary Herald of Andraste is ticklish,” he murmured. “I am going to remember that.”

“Tell anyone and I’ll make sure the rugs everywhere in this keep are statically charged all the time.”

He snorted and laughed, burying his face into her shoulder as he did so. Pria, for her part, did her best to stay aloof, but soon lost that resolve because really, this whole incident was getting a little silly, and she found herself laughing along with him.

Once the laughing died down, he gently took her hands and kissed her knuckles softly. “I swear that I shall never tell your secret,” he said, silly grin still in place. “That takes the fun out of it for me.”

“Uh-huh. I see how this is, Commander,” she murmured tartly, but leaned in to kiss him anyway, rubbing her nose against his once she pulled away. “As for ‘Cully-Wully’…”

He grunted, having forgotten about that for a bit.

“That’s Sera’s nickname for you when she’s teasing me. So…it’s not exactly you personally she’s trying to aggravate. At this moment, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, you two talk about me?”

“No. Well, yes, but not the way you’re thinking, I think. She caught on about us, so when she saw me next, that’s what she led with.”

“Maker’s breath.”

“How did you think we were…?”

Cullen shifted a bit uncomfortably. “I have two sisters, I remember Rosalie talking to Mia when she thought no one would hear.”

Pria blinked, brow furrowed as she thought that over, then understood. “Oh. _Oh_! No—no, Cullen, I have not talked to Sera about you.”

“Thank Andraste…”

“Dorian’s the one I talk to about that sort of thing.”

“ _Pria_!!” He was beet red, he knew it, he could feel the heat of his face.

She covered her mouth to keep from laughing again, eyes crinkled and dancing with mirth. She had been looking to get him to blush.

“ _Woman_ ,” he said in affectionate exasperation, “Stop that. You are going to be the death of me.”

Her face sobered, her hands moving to rest on his jaw, thumb resting over his lips. “I most certainly will not, vhenan,” she informed him, rather sternly, “I’ll be dead first and even then, I’ll be coming back out of the Fade, and no Creators or Maker would stop me.”

She moved her thumb, letting him speak, or would have if she hadn’t leaned in and kissed him fiercely, leading to a startled intake of breath from him followed by a soft sound and his hands tangling in the hem of her shirt as he pulled her into him. He kissed her back rather roughly, sharply aware of the warmth of her skin under his hands and against his legs, and cursing his decision that morning to wear his breastplate, because it was keeping her just a little too far from him at that moment.

Her fingers crept up his jaw, gently scraping her nails over his scalp to tangle in his hair, making his skin prickle deliciously. He bit at her lip, softly, just dragging his teeth over it, and felt her shift and sigh softly, making a pleased little noise in her throat. Her hands lightly combed his hair back into place before she slowly pulled back.

He had to clear his throat to talk, and even then it was quiet, “Not that I mind that _at all_ , but it was just a figure of speech.” He wasn’t sure what “vhenan” meant, but he also didn’t think it was quite the right time to ask.

She blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “It’s odd then. My statement still stands.”

He huffed a soft laugh, kissed her forehead, “Noted.”

“Cullen?”

“Mm?”

“What was that you said earlier about Sera and a trap?”

“Oh. She brought me cake and I wasn’t sure if she was being kind or if it’s a trap.”

“Does it happen to be the piece of cake that’s sitting here on your desk?”

“Ah—yes.”

“Mm. Well, then I can tell you with certainty; she’s being nice. We baked that cake this morning.”

“You bake?”

“Uhm…ish? It’s in a book, we just followed the directions. And one of the cooks supervised—Beth, I believe.”

Cullen blinked, looked at the cake, then back to the mage still in his lap. “Really?”

Pria rolled her eyes, kissed the scar on his lip. “Yes. So—get some more tea, eat. Enjoy. Tell me what you think. I’m going to get started on my work.” She slid out of his lap, pausing as he caught her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

“I’ll see you a little later in the war room, Cullen.”

“Of course. Good luck with those papers, Pria.”

She groaned and made a face. “Ugh. Thanks.” She nuzzled his neck, then paused, grinning against his skin, “My Cully-Wully Cake.”

“ _Pria Lavellan!”_

She shot out of the office, laughing wickedly and beaming, leaving him standing at his desk (having shot to his feet when she uttered _that name_ ), and staring out the door after her. Maker save him and preserve him. He knew it. He _knew_ that was not going to be the last time he heard that.

_Cully-Wully Cake_.

He cringed as he walked around the desk to shut the door, and prayed, almost as hard as he prayed whenever Pria was away. _Maker, please never let Leliana find out about this, otherwise I am never going to live it down._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> MMMM, PRIA LOVES HER SOME SWEET SWEET HUMAN MAN CULLY-WULLY CAKE. NOMNOMNOM.
> 
> But, like, for realsies, if Leliana finds out, ye shall suffer.
> 
> Additionally, I strongly feel that somewhere along the line, Cullen picked up "Andraste's tits" in his swearing vocabulary but only ever thinks it because if he doesn't say it aloud, then it's not using a holy name in vain, right? Also, it's only to be used in the most dire of emergencies...such as one's girlfriend knowing the super stupid, cutesy nickname that one has been given by a possible mortal foe.


End file.
